philosophy
Amddiffyn y rhestr fwced
Rhyw wythnos yn ôl, ar y rhaglen radio A Point of View, clywais i’r llais digamsyniol – a’r acen ddiog, lusg – o’r nofelydd Will Self. Yn ei ddarn ymosododd yn chwyrn ar y bobl rheini sy’n cadw ‘rhestrau bwced’ o’u dyheadau i brofi pethau sylweddol, neu ymweld â lleoedd arwyddocaol, cyn eu bod yn […]
The wrong trousers
Buying things is something I’ve got out of the habit of doing. I make an exception for essentials like food, of course, and for books (though really books are just as essential for the mind as food is for the body). It’s partly because consuming more and getting more things seem morally and ecologically dubious. […]
Clearing out
I’ve been clearing out. Clearing cupboards in the front room, full of books, files, magazines, papers, photos, games, maps and other detritus. Many of them have been there since the cupboards and the bookshelves above them were built some thirty years ago. There’s nothing special about such a task, especially for one trained as a […]
Doethineb a dannedd
Yr wythnos ddiwethaf collais i ddant. Ffordd anghywir, wrth gwrs, o ddisgrifio’r hyn ddigwyddodd – fel petaswn i wedi anghofio mynd ag e gyda fi wrth adael trên neu fws. Mewn gwirioedd, tynnodd y deintydd y dant allan o’m genau yn eithaf treisiol, trwy ddefnyddio dull sydd heb newid rhyw lawer yn ei hanfod, mae’n […]
Time and Johannes Vermeer
Today’s the last day of my imaginary return visit to the city of Delft. As always, it’s been a time of rest and contemplation among the canals and step-gabled houses facing them. And as usual I’ve been thinking about Delft’s most famous citizen, Johannes Vermeer, and his paintings – this time, the early works that […]
Listening to your own voice
I have a memory of making a cassette recording of my granny, on one of our summer visits to Ayr in the 1960s, reciting a poem by Robert Burns. Burns was born and brought up in Alloway, just down the road, and Granny had a natural feel for his language and his verse, and she […]
What if it’s true?
The Baptists of Mumbles have a way with words. Outside their chapel, on the corner of Langland Road, a glass-fronted box attached to two buttresses contains a large poster. The posters, which change every three or four weeks, have become famous, in the pages of the South Wales Evening Post if not beyond, for their […]
Are angels real?
Walking through Mumbles a few weeks ago I glanced up at the noticeboard on the Christadelphian ecclesia (Mount Zion Hall) advertising the topic for the next meeting. Normally the wording takes the form of ‘What does the Bible say about x?’, where ‘x’ is a current concern, like adultery or climate change or the colour purple. On […]
‘Me, myself and I’ (slight reprise)
Since writing about Billie Holiday’s song Me, myself and I, the question of ‘who is I?’ has been gnawing away inside my mind. A couple of weeks ago I picked up a second-hand book in Thirsk that’s turned the gnawing into a gnashing. The book is called Into the silent land, and it’s by a […]